


Mother Knows Best

by trauma surgeon (Remyroo17)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, if it wasn't for the people involved, this would be some good ass smut.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 10:45:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9604562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remyroo17/pseuds/trauma%20surgeon
Summary: Romulus is an OC, yes he's self-insert. Like it says in my profile. Coping mechanism. TW for rape and incest.





	

“Make them think you're on their side,” Hermione whispered urgently, the sentence coming out as though it were one word, snatchers coming at them from all directions. It was the only way to try and protect themselves – to have someone playing for the other team.

“Play the part,” he whispered back quickly, then grabbed her and held her from behind with her head back, wand to her throat. She yelped in surprise.

“Romulus!” she whined as Scabior approached, his wand held out warily.

“Shut it, muddy!” He spat, lips against her ear. Hermione had never heard him sound so cruel.

Scabior was stood in front of them now, regarding Romulus suspiciously. Hermione let a few tears fall – they weren't fake, she was crying because she knew they'd be captured, but she decided to put them to use.

“How can you do this to us?” she muttered out, his wand pressing a little harder into her trachea. “To me?”

Scabior was circling them. “What exactly do we 'ave 'ere, then?” he asked, a sly smile playing at his lips as he stopped in front of Hermione and swept a strand of hair from her face. She flinched at the contact, and Romulus grip on her tightened out of possessiveness. “What's your name, sweetheart?”

“I think you know her name,” Romulus grumbled, taking his wand from Hermione's throat and stroking her cheek, in the opposite of a loving way.

“And who, exactly, are _you_?”

Rom's back straightened as he feigned proudness. “Romulus. Thomas. _Riddle_.” Hermione heard the purr in his voice as he said it, and couldn't stop the churning of her stomach. This whole act nauseated her. She knew this wasn't the Romulus she'd fallen in love with, wasn't who he really was, but there was something so terribly convincing about it.

She watched Scabior's smile drop and his adam's apple bob as he swallowed thickly.

“You've heard of me, I presume?”

Scabior nodded, hesitated, then looked around at his fellow snatchers. “Gaver em up!” He called out. “We're taking this lot to the Manor.”

It was Narcissa who met them at the gate. She watched as Romulus walked quite freely toward the mansion, while Hermione, Harry and Ron were detained by snatchers. She didn't quite know what to make of it.

The youngest Black sister led them into an empty room, one that Romulus knew used to hold a sitting room and bookshelves. Now it seemed, by the blood stains on the floor, it was the new torture room. It made sense – it was closest to the cellar.

He stood with his hands folded in front of him, wand clutched tightly in them, all the while keeping his gaze on Hermione.

When the huge doors opened dramatically, a petite woman was the last thing they expected to be on the other side.

But Bellatrix swept into the room like a queen, her heels clicking menacingly as she approached the huddle of prisoners. Her chest rose and fell quickly with her excited breaths.

Romulus hadn't seen her since the battle at the Ministry, almost three years ago. He remembered how she had cornered him during the battle, caressed his cheek and asked him to join her. He remembered casting a nasty curse and making a run for it, running for wherever it was he had last seen Hermione.

When she looked around the room and spotted him, he knew she hadn't forgotten. Bellatrix advanced on him, stopping just a few inches short and taking hold of his face. “Why isn't this one restrained?” She asked bitterly.

“He helped us catch 'em, ma'am,” one of the more stupid-sounding snatchers informed her politely. “Had the girl held tight, so she couldn't get away. Wouldn't'a got her wivout 'im.”

“Is this true?” She whispered, her gaze flicking interestedly around Romulus' face. Last time she'd seen him, it had been so dark. She'd been unable to get a proper look in at her boy.

He nodded.

“You finally came around?” She asked quietly, pulling her hand away from his face and instead resting it on his chest. “Why defy us all these years?”

He swallowed against the dryness in his mouth. “How better to know one's enemy?” Bellatrix's confused face broke into a twisted grin, and he quirked the corner of his mouth in response. “I simply had to wait for the opportune moment.”

“Draco tells me you and this mudblood, you're... _dating_.” She sounded like nothing could disgust her more.

“How better to know one's enemy,” he repeated, “Than to bed them?”

She scowled and turned to look at Hermione. “You fucked  _that_ ?!”

“A necessary sacrifice,” Romulus quickly retorted, looking Hermione in the eye and doing his best to convey his regret to her.

Bellatrix giggled almost manically and patted her son's chest. “I bet you've bedded all the nice pureblood girls at Hogwarts, hm?” There was a hungry look in her eye.

He shook his head. “I had to earn  _her_ trust. I couldn't have that kind of gossip milling around, I had a reputation to uphold.”

He sounded so nonchalant, his responses so breezy and like he truly meant to say them, that Hermione found genuine tears falling from her eyes. What if this, what if now, what if it was not an act? What if the past four years had been an act? Romulus had only expressed feelings for her after Voldemort's return to a physical form. What if this was who he truly was?

She couldn't stop the sob that burst from her chest, and both of them turned to look at her.

“Oh dear,” he sighed, as though it didn't bother him in the slightest when really it was as though his soul had shattered at the sound. “I seem to have broken her heart.”

“You needn't worry, my dear boy,” Bellatrix said fondly, trailing a hand down his arm. “When I'm finished, she'll wish her heart was _all_ that was broken.”

When Harry and Ron were sent to the cellar, Romulus didn't even look at them. They didn't know this was an act. He wasn't about to look at them and let them give it away when they realised.

He flinched when Bellatrix threw Hermione harshly onto the stone floor, but from then remained stoic. Nonplussed. All the while his mother tortured the woman he loved, he barely batted an eyelid, hoping beyond hope that no one else in the room could see the guilt that shone through his eyes as he watched Hermione squirm and writhe on the floor.

When Harry and Ron came running up the stairs he played his part, fighting beside his mother.

When Dobby dropped the chandelier, it was Narcissa who caught Hermione as she ran from the glass. Romulus had been closer to Bellatrix, and he had grabbed her out of instinct.

“Dobby is a free elf!” the creature proclaimed. “And Dobby has come to save Harry Potter, and his friends!”

If Romulus made a run for it, he would undoubtedly be struck down before he could get halfway across the room. Narcissa had Hermione in too firm a hold for her to break free and join them.

Romulus caught Harry's eye, and knew then that Harry knew he was pretending... But it was safer for all of them to let Harry, Ron and Dobby go.

So they disapparated, leaving Hermione in the prison Malfoy Manor had grown to look like.

Bellatrix cackled evilly.

“Poor little mudblood,” she laughed, standing from Romulus' hold and brushing a hand over his abdomen as she did so. She put on a mocking, infantile voice. “Left out by her fwiends!” She returned to her normal voice. “Who would _want_ to save you?”

Hermione stared past Bellatrix.

“Romulus,” she whispered, voice hoarse from screaming. “Romulus, please... End this...”

The female death eater looked between the both of them with interest, then stroked Hermione's cheek. 

“Why don't we call upon your father?” She asked, pulling away from Hermione (not without giving her a slap) and turning back to her son. “Even without the Potter boy... I'm sure he'll be more than pleased to see you, especially now you're back on the right side of things.”

He didn't have time to respond before she'd yanked up her sleeve and pressed two fingers to the skull on her arm.

Despite the roaring fire, the air became immediately chilly.

A tornado of black smoke brewed in between the pair of Lestranges', and when it morphed into a solid human Romulus heard Hermione's squeak of fear.

“Why must you call me, Bellatrix?” Voldemort spoke, his voice calm but laced with malice. “Do you have him?”

Bellatrix's smile fell. “No, my Lord,” she whimpered – he seemed to be the only person she feared, or respected, as she bowed her head in subservience. “We did, but the Potter boy escaped-”

“ESCAPED?!” Voldemort bellowed. “You call me here to tell me he has _escaped_?!”

“No, my Lord!” she hurried to explain. “There is someone here you might wish to meet!”

She looked past the Dark Lord and into Romulus' eyes with something he might have mistaken for love, if he had been a fool.

Voldemort turned with a seething anger in his eye, but it softened when he saw Romulus standing there.

“Is this him?” he asked quietly. He seemed to hear Bellatrix's nod, as she made not a sound in response. “My blood traitor son?” He spat, advancing on Romulus.

“He brought them to us!” Bellatrix corrected indignantly, rushing forward to stand between them. “He brought the boy here, it was not of his doing that they escaped!” She defended. “He fights for us, he has all this time.”

“It's true,” Romulus muttered, his own voice hoarse from lack of use since Hermione's torture began. “Through Potter, I learnt of your revival, my Lord.”

He didn't know why he'd chosen  _my Lord_ instead of  _father_ . It seemed more fitting, more respectful. If he was to make Voldemort believe he truly fought for him all this time, a respectful title was needed.

“I knew, through Lucius and Narcissa, that Severus had been undercover for you all this time. I thought, if I could play my cards right, I could get in with the boy himself. Have him trust me, spill his secrets to me. Since your return, my Lord,” he took a breath, making it seem like he was enthralled by the powerful man before him instead of fearing for his life if he gave the game away. “I have remained with them. Gathering all they know. Waiting for the time to come... home.”

There was a long silence. Romulus knew that, stood in front of him, was the best Legilimens in the world. This was the moment where everything was at stake. On one hand was immediate death. On the other... He didn't know. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what would happen if Voldemort believed him.

The snake-like man in front of him practically cracked a smile. “How very ingenious of you, my boy... But you must explain why even Lucius and Narcissa, the two who  _raised_ you... Why even they thought you were a lost cause.

Romulus shook his head. “If I were not a wizard, I may only suppose I would be an actor.”

Voldemort seemed to hesitate. “I'm sure.”

Bellatrix smiled a little. “He even had the little mudblood convinced,” she giggled, gesturing to Hermione with her wand. “I do feel awful for him, though... Having to touch it so intimately.”

She looked between Romulus and Hermione a few times, then lay her hand on his arm. “How many times did you have to fuck her, dear?”

Hermione grit her teeth at the crass.

“Too many,” Romulus muttered.

Bellatrix laughed almost ecstatically. “And you say you never bedded another, behind her back?” He shook his head.

She giggled again, leant in against him, brushed her lips against his cheek. “Your father fucked me twice a day until we were sure I was carrying you...” she whispered.

“A necessary measure,” Voldemort said, off-handedly. “Albeit, a pleasurable one.”

He felt Bellatrix's breath against his cheek as she laughed quietly. One of her fingers circled a button on his shirt.

“Such a shame you've only tasted muddy pussy,” she whispered. “We should have you bed a real woman,” she said, turning to Voldemort. “Don't you agree?”

The Dark Lord's smile at this looked cruel, and Bellatrix's hand flattened out against Romulus' stomach.

Hermione could see exactly where this was going, and she had to hold back her vomit at the mere idea. Narcissa was still holding her tightly, but she could sense that the older woman was also at least slightly disgusted.

“I agree, my dear Bellatrix. Allow our boy to prove himself... To denounce the mudblood and have his way with a far more suitable candidate...”

Bellatrix's hand had drifted lower, to his belt buckle. She was watching his face, biting her lower lip and grinning up at him.

“As I understand it,” Voldemort said, looking around the room and making brief eye contact with Hermione. “Mother is always right.”

Before he even knew what was happening, Romulus was thrown down onto the stone floor and skidded a ways, coming to a stop two feet from Hermione. She had dropped to her knees, now, Narcissa still holding her tightly but too shocked at the events to have held her up.

“No,” Romulus muttered, watching Bellatrix gracefully undo the complicated strings of her corset, grinning from ear to ear.

“Whatever is the matter, my dear boy?” She laughed down at him, discarding the corset and shimmying out of her skirt. She was wearing some sort of long robe underneath it all, the torso of her dress had a skirt attached, but it was split all the way up the front.

He made to scramble away as she dropped to her knees at his side, but she caught him in a grip such a petite witch should not have been able to accomplish.

With a flick of her wand, his hands were bound above his head, as if magnetically connected to the floor.

“Would you prefer Cissy?” She asked mockingly, holding her wand up. Voldemort took it and stowed it away safely. “Lucius hasn't touched her in years,” Bellatrix sighed sadly. “She's probably forgotten how to do anything _interesting_. Myself, meanwhile,” she giggled again, undoing his belt buckle. His legs kicked out at her, and they too were quickly bound, this time by Voldemort. 

“I know all the tricks,” this grin was lecherous.

Romulus shook his head frantically as she tugged down the jeans he wore, just to his knees. Just enough.

“You're my mother,” he gasped out, his body disobeying him as she ran her hand over his boxers and he felt himself twitch at the contact.

She scoffed. “Purebloods marry their cousins,” she said simply. “This is no different... This is your  _reward_ ,” she whispered down to him, slipping one finger under the elastic of his underwear. “For bringing the boy, even if he got away. This is your prize for coming home to us.”

Bellatrix tugged the boxers down gently, maintaining eye contact with Romulus until they, too, were at his knees.

She tore her eyes from his down to his waist, where they lit up with joy. “He could give you a run for your money, my Lord,” she muttered. The dark witch wrapped a hand around his length, and Romulus groaned – both at the unavoidable pleasure and with disgust at the situation.

“This is wrong,” he whimpered as she caressed his cock, annoyingly feeling it start to grow hard under her touch.

Voldemort crouched by his head, and Romulus saw Hermione flinch at his sudden appearance.

“Do you know many men would _kill_ to have this opportunity?” He asked, sounding almost disappointed. “Your mother offers herself to you, on a silver platter, and you mean to reject her?” Romulus didn't look at him, which earnt him a sharp slap across the cheek. “I promise you, my son... You'll like this.”

Hermione couldn't tear her gaze away from Bellatrix's hands as they fondled and stroked in the same way she so recently had done. She felt a surge of possessiveness, and made to pull from Narcissa's hold – but failed.

Bellatrix caught the movement and grinned. “Oh, does poor muddy fink he's all hers?” She pouted dramatically.

She leaned down, then, keeping her eyes glued to Hermione's, and flicked her tongue against the tip of Romulus' now-hard cock.

Hermione grit her teeth, watching the buck of Romulus' hips in unavoidable pleasure. It was only her that had done this to him.

Without warning, Bellatrix took his whole length in her mouth and pulled away quickly with a light 'pop' of her lips leaving the appendange.

“One doesn't cook without tasting what they made,” she said, still watching Hermione. She couldn't hold back her gag, which Bella clearly thought was hilarious.

She took Romulus' cock in her mouth again, slowly bobbing up and down. His inadvertent grunts and whimpers made Hermione want to wretch.

“You're sick,” she hissed out. Bellatrix pulled back, sucking deeply as she raised her head, then spat at Hermione. She narrowly missed the girl's face, and grinned at the look of horror she received.

“Move, Narcissa,” Voldemort commanded. He took Hermione in his own hold rather quickly, kneeling behind her, holding her arms behind her back with one hand.

Bellatrix undid the clasps on the front of her under-dress and tossed it aside. She had nothing underneath. She threw one leg over Romulus' hips and tore her gaze from the mudblood girl down to him.

She slipped a hand between her own thighs, running her fingers through the thick black curls, and found that she was already ridiculously wet.

She gathered up some of her wetness and stroked Romulus cock again, coating it lightly in her own juices.

He was breathing heavily, and he wasn't sure if it was fear, or arousal, or something else entirely.

Bellatrix took hold of his face roughly again, and raised his head slightly so he would look at her. Her grin was predatory, he had never seen anything so completely evil.

He could not look away as she lowered herself down onto his length, and he could not stop the moan that ripped itself past his lips at the feeling.

He grit his teeth, angry at himself for responding so eagerly, but he still couldn't look away.

She slowly pulled her hips back up again, until his tip was just barely inside her, and slapped her hips down forcefully. He moaned again, and Hermione truly felt like she might vomit.

She couldn't blame him for reacting the way he was – his body was going to react to outside stimuli whether he wanted it to or not – but it still disgusted her to hear him making those noises for another, when she had been the only one to cause them until now.

“My sweet boy,” Bellatrix sighed, caressing his cheek. “Inside me once more,” she cackled.

“Pretend it's me,” Hermione blurted desperately. “Just imagine it's me, just like the other night.”

Romulus let his eyes fall closed, conjuring images of Hermione in this same position, but was yanked from his thoughts with a slap, his cheek still stinging from the one he received minutes ago.

“You will think of me, and me alone,” Bellatrix warned, raising her hips slowly once more.

Romulus gulped and kept his eyes open, watching as his mother rode him with a level of expertise Hermione could only hope to one day attain. She knew just when to roll her hips, just when to pick up the pace or slow down, just when to run her hands over his chest and let her nails scrape harshly across his nipples.

He ashamedly felt himself getting closer and closer to orgasm, and grit his teeth again in an attempt to push it away.

“Get it over with,” Hermione whispered desperately. “Come, and this will all be over.”

He continued to force his orgasm away, hoping that if he could keep it at bay long enough then Bellatrix would get bored.

“You heard the mudblood,” she whispered though, leaning down. Her lips brushed his and her breasts rested against his chest. “Come,” she prompted. “Come for mummy.”

He could not hold back any longer, and was unwillingly thrown over the edge, inadvertently thrusting desperately upwards like he usually did with Hermione, normally so eager to pull her over the edge with him.

And it worked, on Bellatrix. She sat up and matched his thrusts with vigor, one hand pushed into her hair and the other rubbing at herself between her legs.

When she was done, she stood as though unaffected, gathered her things, and strolled silently from the room.

Romulus hoped Hermione could not see the tears welling in his eyes. She could.


End file.
